Say Something
by HannahWroteThis
Summary: A year after Marco's death, Jean pays a visit to his grave to get some closure. Based on A Great Big World's "Say Something." AU. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**AN**: So I've had this AU in my head for a couple of days now. Instead of burning Marco's body, they buried him and let Jean pick the spot. Jean didn't get the closure he got in the anime, so he's getting it here.

Please give me feedback, good or bad. I need to know what and where to improve!

Listen to A Great Big World's "Say Something" while you read!

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"Say Something"

It was nearly midnight when I reached the outskirts of the woods. Owls hooted and blustery winds rolled by as the moon shone bright overhead. I was grateful for its brilliance, because it was my only source of light. I had to sneak out of the headquarters, and carrying a lantern with me would have given me away. I couldn't afford to be caught, not tonight.

Short snorts came from my horse's nose as I dismounted him. The horse flicked his ears, almost in disapproval, when his reigns were tied to the trunk of a nearby tree. I didn't want to leave him alone, but I wanted to be completely by myself when I reached my destination. Patting the horse's neck, I promised him that I would be back before long. The horse shook his head like he was disagreeing with me. I rolled my eyes and started walking towards the woods.

With a bouquet of flowers grasped tight in my hand, I found my way through the growth of the forest. Trees towered up into the darkness of the night, making it impossible to see their tops. The moon would peek out between openings every now and then. I tripped a couple of times, and I was glad no one was around to see me. The horse would have snorted at me, I just knew.

I racked my brain for the route of my destination. The moss-covered tree jogged my memory, and I remembered I needed to turn left. I kept straight until I found a gigantic boulder. I turned right, and before me was a clearing. In the middle was a small grave with little blue flowers growing around it. I approached the grave slowly, apprehensively. My heart raced in my tightening chest. _You've made it this far, there's no going back now. You've been waiting for this moment for a month now, Jean._ I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"H-Hey, Marco," I whispered as I stood at the foot of the grave. My hand shook, and I had to remind myself to calm down. "It sure has been a while, hasn't it? A whole year…" I crouched down to place the bouquet near the headstone. I remembered when they set that headstone in the ground. My chest grew tighter at the memory.

"A lot's happened in a year…" I stared at the headstone, reading Marco's name over and over. "I've joined the Recon Corps, I've made new friends, and I've fought a lot of Titans…" The vocal cords in my throat began trembling as tears burned my eyes, causing his name to blur. "I just wish you were here to go through it all with me."

My mind was sent back to that fateful day in Trost. The 3D Maneuver Gear I carried had been damaged beyond repair, and I was left stranded in the street with a Titan on my heels. Marco saw my predicament from the rooftops and came to my rescue. I didn't see him until two days later, dead and bled dry on the wall of a dilapidated building. Half his face and torso were missing…

"_Why didn't you survive with the rest of us?_"

Hot tears were streaming down my face now, stinging my cold cheeks.

"I'm doing all this for you, Marco," I choked out. "I wish you were here. I miss having you around. I miss your laugh. I miss how you saw the bright side of everything… I miss… _you_…"

I couldn't contain the emotions any longer. With my face between my knees and hands cradling the back of my head, I cried out, "M-Marco, p-please come b-back…!" Anguished sobs racked my body as I let go. Tears poured from my eyes and hit the soft dirt below me for several minutes, and I was finding it extremely difficult to breathe. It had been years since I had cried that hard for that long.

Through my sobbing, I could hear something… _rumbling_ below me. I looked up and found the bouquet shaking slightly. The rumbling grew louder, and the flowers began shaking violently. My chest was so tight, it felt like my heart would explode as it began quickening its pace. My eyes widened in fear.

_What's happening?_

Before my brain could register what was going on, I found myself falling backwards as something shot out of the ground, sending the bouquet flying. The thing landed on the ground with a loud _thud_ as it pulled itself from the dirt. I froze as I watched it emerge from the ground, realizing it was coming towards me. I couldn't move. My brain screamed at my legs to run, but they wouldn't budge. I sat there like an idiot while the thing—"_Is that an_ _arm?"_—came crawling towards me. Something black followed it out of the grave. It tilted up to reveal half a face, and then I realized—

"_Marco_?" I gasped aloud, bringing my hand to my mouth. The thing was half way out of the ground now, groaning and gnashing the remainder of its—_his_—jaw. His brow was furrowed as his sunken left eye stared me down. There were nasty bags beneath his eye, his skin was sallow and deteriorating, and his tongue hung out the gaping hole in his face. He drug himself closer to me and growled menacingly. He looked like he wanted to kill me.

"Marco," I sputtered, feeling sick to my stomach, "M-Marco, it's me, Jean!" I scooted back a bit, finally able to get my body to move. Marco followed me, grunting and growling. Then he stopped abruptly, and his face (or what was left of it, anyway) softened. His brow raised, and his eye went wide. His grunts turned to whimpers, and he slowly reached his only hand out towards me. I was frozen again. _What do I do?_

"_Mghhh…"_ Marco moaned, wiggling his way closer to me. His hand touched my boot and took hold of it. He looked up at me desperately. "_Ehrrghh…_"

I placed my hand on his, and found it icy cold. "Do you remember me, Marco?" I asked in bewilderment. I saw a slight nod from him, and my nausea turned to relief. I pulled him up by his arm, seeing he was having trouble with his legs, and set him against my chest. He smelled like rot and death, but I couldn't have cared less at the moment. "I've missed you, bud," I murmured as I brought him into a long-awaited embrace. I waited for some sort of reply, but he never said a word.

"Marco, say something, please." Still nothing. He only groaned at me. "_Marco, please_," I begged. "Please, Marco, I need to hear your voice. I don't remember it well anymore. I don't remember _you_ well anymore… I only remember that day now, that day I found you dead in the street. I don't want to remember that day. I want to remember the days before it." _Still nothing_.

"It's my fault you're dead! It's all my fault… I should be the one six feet under, not you, Marco. I'm so sorry…." I felt Marco shaking in my arms, as if he were crying. He mumbled and whimpered, but no words would come out. He was trying, I knew. He was trying so hard and he just _couldn't talk_, and it frustrated me to the point of tears.

"Dammit, Marco, _please_!" I pulled him back, and what I found horrified me. He had gone still. The life was gone from his dulled brown eye, which had rolled back into his severed skull. His jaw went slack, and he was limp in my arms.

The tears returned when I pressed his once-again lifeless body against my chest. I screamed at him to come back, cursed him for leaving me again, and rocked him back and forth as I prayed he would return. But he didn't. And I gave up.

After I set Marco's body down into the hole he made, I ran and ran and ran back to my horse, hastily untying the reigns and speeding away from the woods. What had happened was too much for me. Tears blurred my vision as I rode back to the headquarters. I would come back later to bury him properly, I had told myself, but I just couldn't do it that night.

When I reached the headquarters, I was too shaky to even attempt to sneak back into the bunks. I stayed in the stable with the horse and fell asleep in the hay. _I'll make a lie up later,_ I thought as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

I never told anyone what happened that night. It was too traumatizing for me. And despite the horror and trauma that night put me through, I still returned every year to his grave. Thing is, though, he never showed up to meet me. And after a while, I gave up. I gave up on Marco.

I had to let him go.

_Say something, I'm giving up on you._

_I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you._

_Anywhere, I would have followed you._

_Say something, I'm giving up on you._


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** Thank you, AmutoisLove, for being my first reviewer and for inspiring this second part. It's in Marco's POV, and it explains why he came back the way he did. Hope this clears things up!

Once again, feedback is greatly appreciated! Let me know what you think!

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"Saying Goodbye"

I was sitting on the edge of Heaven when the idea of something almost unforgivable came upon me.

I was watching over my best friend as he snuck out of the headquarters. I made sure no one would catch him, because I knew what he was planning on. It was when he mounted his horse that I got the idea.

I knew I didn't have much time, so I flew as fast as I could past the gates, over the heads of the other angels, and sped towards the Kingdom. I saw the Archangel standing at the doorway.

"Sir, I have an urgent request to make," I spoke as I knelt at his feet. He looked down on me.

"What is it, child?"

Raising my head, I murmured, "My friend is on his way to visit my grave, and we never got a chance to say goodbye before I died. Would it be too much to ask if I could go visit him again?" The response I got was one I didn't like hearing.

"Ha! You poor soul, that's not possible. Once you're here, you stay here forever," the Archangel laughed. "Surely you can wait until he makes it up here? Then you can spend all the time you want together. Humans don't live very long, anyway."

The idea of my friend dying upset me. "Sir," I begged, "please, just this one time. He's fought for me, and he deserves to live for a long time. I don't want to wait. I don't think he'd want to wait, either."

The Archangel rubbed his chin and contemplated the idea for a long time. I shifted my weight impatiently as I waited for his reply. I was running out of time.

"Fine," he finally answered, "you can go back. But you have a time limit, alright? You get one hour." I could literally feel my face light up.

"Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed, making for the gates.

"You better hurry, time's ticking!" the Archangel called, and suddenly I disappeared from Heaven.

The next thing I knew, everything was dark, and it stunk like hell. And then I realized—

_I'm in my grave._

The Archangel actually _put me back into my body_. All I wanted was to just see Jean in spirit form, not like this!

Grunting, I lifted my remaining arm and started to push against the lid of the coffin. All the dirt weighed it down. This would take a while. Using all my strength and my only hand, I scratched my way out of the coffin, and started digging a hole through the ground. By the time I was halfway up, I was weak and almost couldn't move. I wanted to give up.

But then I thought of Jean, and getting to see him again, and that drove me to continue. I dug and dug and fought my way up. When I broke the surface, I felt so relieved. And then I felt angry.

I was so pissed at the Archangel! Why would he do this to me? I just wanted a simple, harmless meeting with my friend, and now I'm going to scare him away because of that jerk!

I didn't realize who was sitting on the ground before me when my head emerged from the ground. I was so mad. I wanted to tear something apart.

As I was gnashing my teeth to express my anger, I heard a muffled "_Marco?_" in my remaining ear. I looked at the person sitting on the ground and growled, thinking it was the Archangel. I came closer to him. I was going to _kill_ him—if that was possible.

"Marco," I heard again. "Marco, it's me, Jean!" The person started scooting backwards and I followed him. And then it hit me. _This was Jean sitting in front of me._ I whimpered at him, finding myself unable to talk. I reached for him as he froze up and inched my way towards him. My legs wouldn't work due to the strain of getting out of the ground.

"_Mghhh_…" I let out. I wanted to talk to him, but my vocal cords wouldn't work properly. Instead, I reached out and grabbed his boot, letting him know I recognized him. I wanted to say "_I miss you Jean! Please don't be scared_!" but all that came out was "_Ehrrghh_…"

I felt his warm, fleshy hand against my cold, dead hand and almost cried on the spot. "Do you remember me, Marco?" Jean asked me. With the little strength I had left, I nodded slightly. I wanted to smile, but the muscles in my face just didn't want to work.

I felt myself being pulled up and into Jean's embrace. He held me against his chest, and he was so warm. I hadn't felt warmth like that in a _long _time. "I've missed you, bud," I heard him say. I tried to say something, but nothing coherent would come out.

"Marco, say something, please." He was desperate. "Please, Marco, I need to hear your voice. I don't remember it well anymore. I don't remember _you_ well anymore… I only remember that day now, that day I found you dead in the street. I don't want to remember that day. I want to remember the days before it." I tried to get something out to respond to him, but nothing would come out of the remains of my mouth.

"It's my fault you're dead!" he cried out. That made my dead chest tighten. _No it's not, Jean_. "It's all my fault… I should be the one six feet under, not you, Marco." I felt nonexistent tears, now. "I'm so sorry…" I was crying now. It wasn't his fault! It was no one's fault. I wanted to tell him that, that I gave my own life to save him, and that it was never his fault to begin with. I would have never lived with myself if I had left him out in the street that day in Trost.

Through my tearless crying I didn't realize I was actually trying to tell Jean all this. Only it came out as incoherent mumbling, and he couldn't understand me. I was so frustrated with myself for not being able to communicate properly. "I miss you too, Jean," I tried to say, but it came out as little grunts. I found my vision becoming blurry, and I felt so weak. I was running out of time.

"Dammit, Marco, _please_!" was the last thing I heard from Jean before leaving my body. When I opened my eyes, I was back in Heaven, kneeling in front of the Archangel again. He was smirking at me.

"Did you get everything off your chest?" he asked smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's not fair!" I cried out, barely restraining myself from punching this asshole in the face. There were actual tears in my eyes now as I screamed, "I didn't get to talk to him at all! That was the last time he would get to see me, and I was a damned zombie! What's wrong with you?" I had other angels staring at me now, but I didn't care. What he did to me was wrong and unjustified.

"Ah, but child," he said calmly, slyly, "If I had sent you in spirit form, he would not have been able to see you. And he will definitely remember this night. This was a lesson, you know. If you tamper with the natural order of things, you will surely ruin everything altogether. What I have allowed you to do could surely get me demoted, or even thrown out, if I were to be found out." He leaned down to my face and whispered menacingly, "If you breathe a word of this to _anyone_, I _will _make you pay." And with that, he sent me off.

I sulked back to the edge of Heaven, contemplating what the Archangel said to me. If he _had_ sent me in spirit form, I would have let Jean know I was there. It would have been much better than scarring him for life with that deteriorating corpse.

I sighed and watched as Jean stuffed my dead body back down in the grave. I felt horrible for leaving him like that. I wanted to tell him so much. I wanted to let him know I was okay, that I was so proud of him, and that Heaven wasn't that bad (aside from the Archangel). I just wish things had gone a little differently.

I kept watch over him as he rode back to the headquarters. He slept in the horse's stall, unable to sneak back into the bunks. I had terrified him, and that made me feel _awful_.

Over the years, I kept him safe from harm. I made sure he killed Titans, and I made sure Titans didn't eat him. He would return to the grave every year, hoping I would show up again, but of course I couldn't. I wouldn't come back that way ever again.

The Archangel was found out (but not through me, or maybe it was me, we'll never know…), and he was thrown out of Heaven for treating me, along with other angels, so horribly. I wanted to tell Jean about the situation, but when I found that he started giving up on me, it crushed my heart. But I understood why he was losing hope.

I wanted so desperately to return, but I didn't want to scar Jean any more than I already had.

I had to say goodbye.

_And I will swallow my pride._

_You're the one that I love,_

_And I'm saying goodbye._


End file.
